


Until the Cows Come Home

by ABeautifulBreakdown



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Farm/Ranch, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Author Rey, Ben Solo Has a Dirty Mouth, Ben and his Monster Cock, F/M, Farm Animals Galore, Finger Sucking, Fingerfucking, Heavy Petting, Horseback Riding, Kissing, M/M, Making Out, Mutual Pining, Not a Monster fic, Oral Sex, Sex, Shower Sex, So much kissing, Twitter Fic, farmer Ben, text fix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:13:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25917148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ABeautifulBreakdown/pseuds/ABeautifulBreakdown
Summary: When author Rey Niima decided to rent a small cottage in the country for the summer to finish her latest book she wasn't prepared to get to know the locals quite so well.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Rose Tico, Poe Dameron/Finn, Rey/Ben Solo
Comments: 4
Kudos: 125





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi friends, I'm putting this on AO3 but Im not very good at doing the whole picture thing so bare with me. I'll post links to where the story starts and stops text wise in the notes so hopefully, that'll help?  
> For anyone finding this on AO3 it starts [Here](https://twitter.com/rebelscumreylo/status/1260572244042006540) on Twitter

Ben is waiting for her out on the porch when she arrives at the farmhouse a little over an hour later. He’s sitting in an old wooden Adirondack chair his knees spread comfortably, head resting against its back, eyes closed. His hair is still damp from his shower and pushed away from his face, his cheeks and nose tinted the most adorable shade of red. It’s not remarkably warm these days but the sun has been consistent and Ben spends most his days outside. Of course, he’d get himself a little burnt.

He’s wearing boot cut jeans over what appears to be cowboy boots. Honest to goodness cowboy boots and a green plaid flannel rolled up at the sleeves. Really, he doesn’t look any different from the night she first met him only he does he really and truly does. Ben’s eyes are softer somehow, or maybe it's just the way the sunlight hits them making them glitter like single malt whiskey. His mouth is full, the corners pulled up in the softest of smiles like he’s chuckling at her which he may very well be. She’s sure she looks silly, carrying on her arm an old fashioned picnic basket she’d found in one of the back closets. It’s an old woven thing with flaps for a lid and a hinge in the middle. Perfect for their afternoon picnic if not a bit cliched.

While Ben had spent his morning busy doing chores, Rey had taken a drive into town for her weekly visit to the farmers market. It was an adorable little set up in a square outside of an old train station. On nice days like today the vendors would set up booths and tables outside in the sun but the inside too was filled with a variety of smells and sights the delighted the senses. She’d taken her time picking out pastries and treats that were sweet but not too sweet as well as a variety of fruits and cheeses. It was fun, almost domestic in a way that made Rey’s heart pitter-patter just so.

A picnic date with a handsome man was a simple enough thing but she wanted it to be special. She fussed over apples, the red or the yellow. Honey crisps, golden delicious, macintosh and galas, who knew there were so many different types grown in the area? What kind did Ben like? Was he a fan of a tart crisp taste or something juicy and sweet that melts in your mouth when you bite into?

These were things she’d never concerned herself with before, the smaller details that made up the greater picture of a person's whole. She settled on an assortment moving on to sample fudges and scones and an assortment of jams, ciders and wines and honey too but none so good as the honey Ben had left for her.

When she was through her arms laden with more food than any two people could eat she skipped off home to organize and prepare. She cut up the cheeses into small cubes and organized the various meats onto a small try. Packing away crackers and apples and scones as well as a handful of cookies someone had called snickerdoodles. They looked sugary and had a fun name so Rey had to purchase an even dozen. Then she started in on the watermelon making the most delicious of messes. It was sugary sweet like wet candy that melted on her tongue leaving her fingers sticky and damp.

She hummed to herself as she worked, packing away a bottle of wine and a pair of plastic cups to be safe. It had made her feel warm inside to think of his smile, wondering if he’d be pleased with the spread she’d prepared. Something a girlfriend might do for a partner who worked too hard and deserved a nice break. A reminder that they were special. Rey wanted Ben to feel special. She’d thought, closing the basket up, that maybe their days could be like this, she could buy the old cottage and work on her books here in peace. Maybe, but making decisions based on a date that might not be a date that hasn’t even happened yet was just asking for trouble.

The country experience was, however, an incredibly pleasant experience and Ben… Ben was definitely country.

“Where did you find that?” He chuckles softly as she approaches, leaning forward in his seat. She’s almost a little disappointed he’s not wearing a cowboy hat as he stands and skips down the steps in a careful shuffle, landing on the dirt in front of her smoothly.

“The closet in the bedroom, isn’t it perfect?”

Ben shakes his head in disbelief, his hair fluttering about his ears still a little stringy and damp. Head cocked to the side he takes her in. She’d dressed comfortably as he’d said, a pair of leggings, a long purple plaid shirt that covers her backside and a pair of bluntstones. The only thing she owned that might be suitable for wearing in the field. She’d put her hair up too, back and out of her face in a messy bun that was already starting to come loose.

“Old Obi use to pack that old thing with lunch and take my uncle and my mom out on Sunday picnics in the field out back,” Ben says with a smile, a real smile, the kind that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners. She likes his smile, she realizes quickly, the way his lips quirk and the dimples on his cheeks bracket his mouth like she’s supposed to focus solely there. “When I came along he used to do the same with me in his backyard where you’re staying now. He was too old to make the track to the old elm my grandfather planted in the backfield,” he nods over his shoulder, his hair shifting to give Rey a better look at his ears. She hadn’t noticed them before, but they stick out of his head like the handles on a pot, round and obvious and for some reason the most adorable thing Rey has ever seen on a man.

“Is that where we’re going?” she asks with a grin, “The old elm?”

A sudden rouge creeps onto Ben’s cheeks making them unconscionably redder as he inclines his head just so, rubbing a hand at the base of his neck. He looks like a boy about to ask his high school crush on a date, almost sheepish as he says, “I thought we might if you think you can handle Clyde that is. I mean I know you haven’t ridden but he's pretty good to follow Logan you just need to be firm with him and mind he doesn’t wander.”

Rey’s eyes go wide, it’s everything she could ever hope for. Ever since she was small she’d always dreamed of being allowed to ride horses. The foster system being what it was most families didn’t have the money for things like riding lessons. She was lucky to get new sneakers when she outgrew her old ones. Still, her love for them never really faded, she just locked it up in a little box and put it on a shelf filled with things she hoped she would do one day.

They make their way over to the side paddock where Clyde and Logan, as well as two other horses, are grazing. They’re Percheron's Ben explains with a kind pat on the rump of the smaller female who appeared to be waiting for them upon their approach. She’s a beautiful silver creature speckled with white spots that coat her entire body. Frances, he calls her offering her up a sugar cube. She’s a kind old girl, his mother's horse from back in the day when she used to show horses. Now Franny is retired and living out her days in peace. Or as much peace as she can with the three young males wandering about. Jaimie stays out in the field a ways. He’s Gwen’s horse and tends to dislike most people who aren’t Gwen. Clyde and Logan, on the other hand, are more than happy to saunter up curiously the moment they see Ben has treats.

Clyde is this broad and thick. He’s tall too of course as Clydesdales often are but not as tall as Logan who is lean with feathering that looks well kept and clean. Ben explains that Clyde likes to roll in the dirt while Logan likes to look pretty. Such a strange way to talk about animals but it’s easy to see the way their personalities differ.

Clyde is a bull moose walking straight up to Rey, shaking his head before nudging her with his nose. He’s like a big puppy searching for attention while Logan whinnies and keeps his distance letting Clyde feel her out first.

“Get off you oaf,” Ben laughs, pushing his knuckles into Clyde’s face in order to divert his attention, ”You must have apples in the basket.”

Rey simply nods, eyes wide as she drops the wicker basket on the ground, “I brought extra, just in case,” she says, voice filled with wonder as she holds her hand out tentatively wishing nothing more in the world than to touch the creature standing before her. Warm fingers slide along her wrist, soft and questioning as Ben adjusts her positioning slightly. He encourages her hand flat, turning it over palm up in front of Clyde who’s lips wiggle against it appraisingly.

“Apples are his favourite,” Comes a low voice, soft and breathy against her ear as his hand cups hers. She doesn’t look at him, she can’t. Her eyes are transfixed on the way Clyde's ears twitch, and how his eyes just watch her, the deepest shade of brown she’s ever seen. It’s like he knows her like he can see her, who she is behind all her masks and fears. Like he’s telling her it’s ok. That he accepts her.

In a way, he reminds her of Ben with the depth of his stare so open, so curious, “Hold your hand flat,” Ben urges, flatting her curling fingers as he deposits a lump of sugar into her palm, “He won’t mean to bite but he can if you’re not careful.

Rey nods, giggling as Clyde’s lips work against her palm. The texture is soft and feathery like a newborn's head covered in downy soft hair. “He’s amazing,” she says breathlessly. Clyde pushes against the fence pressing his nose into Rey’s hair, his lips moving as he sniffs and nudges.

“Alright Romeo,” Be chines, pushing Clyde by his nose as Logan makes a slow approach. He’s cautious and a little standoffish as he paws at the ground and shakes his head. “You’re ok,” Ben tells him in a tone that’s almost sing-song in a way as he holds his palm out facing Logan’s massive head. The horse butts his nose against Ben’s hand before diverting his attention to the front pocket of Ben’s flannel. Logan is no fool he knows where the good stuff is. “Alright, alright.” A sugar cube in hand, Ben offers the horse his treat giving his neck an affectionate pat.

Logan is darker, Rey realizes now that they’re up close. His tone is a harsher jet to Clyde's soft charcoal and his face is all white while Clyde has two black smudges on his brow making it look like he has two oddly misshapen eyebrows.

They’re truly a wonder as they push against one another fighting for Ben’s attention like children. He’s offering them each of them another sugar cube when Rey feels her eyes start to well with tears, her vision swimming, blurry around the edges. It’s a little too much to take in and yet she never wants it to end.

Clyde tired of Logan who keeps nickering and bucking his head saunters back to Rey for another sniff. It’s instinctual the way she holds her hands out, stroking his nose and chin at the same time. Her fingers trail between his eyes as she pets him and then presses her forehead against his snout. His face is warm and smells like dirt and fresh air and something deep and musty that just screams horse. She loves it. She loves him. She loves… that Ben is so happy right now. Yes that’s it. That’s what it is because anything else would be ludicrous.

Clyde bucks softly against her and she laughs while Ben just watches his big hand stroking Logan’s neck. They really are a pair, stoic in a way that's soft and kind, watching Rey and Clyde with something akin to amusement. They’re well-matched it seems as Logan bumps his nose into Ben, “You’ve had enough for now,” Ben grumbles and Logan’s ears twitch folding back, “Don’t give me that,” he huffs and gives Logan a slight push on the neck with his fist. “Mind their ears, when they flatten like that it means they’re gonna get snippy.” Logan paws at the ground as Ben raises a warning finger in the giant beast's direction, “Ahhhh!” Logan whinnies and prances in a circle. His coat gleaning in the sunlight. She can see his muscles shift and move beneath his coat as he pushes himself into a half loop. He’s a marvel

They move along into the Barn attached to the horse's pen. It’s surprisingly clean inside, the hay in tidy piles, the stalls freshly mucked out. Clyde trots in happy to join as Ben start’s to get the blankets and saddles ready. Without warning Clyde grabs at the blanket Ben’s about to throw on his back. The two enter into a gentle game of tug of war before Ben wrestles the blanket free, unscathed and tosses it over Clyde’s back.

Logan however needs a little more convincing. He stands at the mouth of the barn, tail swishing as he watches Clyde get fitted. When Ben approaches Logan shakes his head and trots off as though trying to instigate a game of catch me if you can. It takes an apple cut in pieces to lure him in. His stride easy as he approaches Rey with her hand held flat and the juicy treat placed on display. Clyde has already gotten his but makes it known he wouldn't be opposed to another by nudging Rey’s shoulder playfully.

Logan stills pawing the earth as Ben secures him to the wall fitting him with a blanket and saddle, like Clyde. They’re brothers Ben tells her, chatting quietly as he works. He speaks of them like they’re family. Telling her all about when he first brought them home. He’d just moved into the house, his grandparent's old house she learns, and the first thing he’d done after getting

himself some chickens, Harrison included he laments, was get himself a pair of horses. He’d been around them his whole, life. They were in his blood as much as cattle. His mother favoured the Percheron like old Frances in the field but when Ben met Clyde and Logan, formally Jimmy and Darryl, he knew they were his.

He tells her about the summer he spent working with them, how Clyde had been easy and eager while Logan was stubborn and fierce. Logan took longer to open up but he was Ben’s horse through and through. They bonded heavily, not that Ben wasn’t close with Clyde too but Clyde was aloof and free while Logan just seemed to get Ben after a while. Like he understood Ben better then most people did. Their bond self-evident as Ben strokes Logan’s neck and tells him he’s doing a good job.

When the time comes to finally saddle up Rey stands somewhat stunned before the beautiful mountain of an animal. Clyde is just shy of seventeen hands which means nothing to Rey beyond the fact that he’s really fucking tall. Logan on the other hand is closer to eighteen which Ben only clears by his own three inches. Ben admittedly is a small giant but Rey, while tall for a female is puny next to Clyde, who, seems to find the whole thing very amusing.

Ben laughs as he approaches and helps her get her foot into the saddle. He murmurs encouraging words that could be meant for her or the horse she's not sure. He hoists her foot and supports her with a hand on… oh his hand is on her ass. He doesn’t seem to notice as he pushes her up and she slides her legs into position. It takes every ounce of will power she has not to dwell on how perfect his hand felt against her, warm and firm… no…

It’s easy to push passed it once she finally gets comfortable because it feels amazing being up there. She hasn’t even done anything and already she feels the weight of the world slipping away. “I don’t have a helmet,” she hears Ben say softly, “So you’ll have to be careful. Promise me you won’t fall off and hit your head?”

Rey can’t help but laugh because that is exactly something she would do, “Oh Clyde is going to take good care of me,” she says leaning forward to pet Clyde's neck softly, “Aren’t you buddy. We’re good friends now.”

With a curiously apprehensive look Ben hands her the basket, “Hold onto this while I hop up on Logan and then you can hand it back over to me. We don’t need to make this any more complicated for you then it needs to be.”

She bristles under the implication wanting to tell him she’s quite capable but then thinks better of it. Rey knows nothing about horses, it would be foolhardy to pretend that she did. Instead she watches as Ben slips his foot into the saddle and then sort of pulls and pushes himself up at the same time. His long legs make it look easy as he swings about and gives Logan a good pat on the neck. Reins in hand he backs his horse up easily, urging Logan towards Rey and Clyde. With Ben on his back Logan's much more amenable nickering at Clyde as Rey passes the basket over carefully.

The crash course on horseback riding is amusing at best. Clyde seems to do everything in his power to do the opposite of what he gets asked to do. Ben, flustered to say the least takes the reins and gives the clown a gentle tug in warning telling Rey she needs to be firm or else he’s liable to take advantage.

And he’s the easy one.

Suddenly none of this seems as easy as she originally thought.

It only takes another moment or two though before she has the hang of it. A sharp tap of the heels, a firm hold on the reins, don’t let them hang too loose or he’ll wander. “Give him a squeeze with your thighs when you want him to go,” Ben says with a nod, now why does that sound so sexual and oh so… welcome?

They do a few laps around their enclosure before Ben canters Logan over towards the gate. Its a marvel really that such a small and seemingly flimsy structure could contain creatures of such magnitude.

Once they’re outside and the gates have been secured there’s nothing but open fields ahead. Rey has never seen this side of the farm before, a sprawling sea of greens and browns stretching out in every direction lined by fences that look to be well maintained. 

Their pace is easy, the horses meandering along at a leisurely pace. It's hard to tell if Clyde is actually listening to her subtle instruction of merely following Logan and Ben. It doesn’t matter much because Rey is content to simply take it all in. The way the air smells, the way her legs burn just a little from straddling a creature this side, the way his muscles move and shift beneath her. It’s remarkable really, the grace and ease that comes from a creature that weighs close tot thousand pounds. He’s a monster. A monster with a heart of gold who seems just as content with their stroll as she is.

Logan, on the other hand, does not appear to share their feelings. He nods his head and dances as Ben holds him to mind. Slow is obviously not a setting the larger Clydesdale does well. In a moment of frustration, Rey sees Ben give Logan a few sharp kicks to the side. The reaction is instant. Logan surges forward into a trot, Bens large form punching on his back as the horse pushes and moves picking up speed into a bit of a gallop. Clyde gives an exasperated huff as he continues on his mosey much to Rey’s enjoyment.

Ahead Ben and Logan seem to show off a bit and its unclear which of the two seems more pleased with the fact. Ben’s face is broken into the broadest grin Rey’s ever seen as he somehow manages to steady their picnic basket and keep Logan content doing wide circles at a quickened pace.

It’s nice to see Ben so relaxed, more at ease out here then he had been the other night. His shoulders are relaxed his lips drawn in a smile as he points out different things. The edge of a property line, where the old barn used to be, it’s bones lying in the dirty surrounded by bush and bramble. He shows her the yearlings he keeps for his parents and explains the reason they keep them here as opposed to on their own farm.

Truthfully she’s not entirely sure how much time has passed or what direction they’ve gone in. All there is is Ben and the open air and his voice, deep and smooth like melted chocolate drizzled over icecream. Like a fucking hot fudge sundae… well, now she’ll never be able to enjoy one of those with a PG thought in her head EVER AGAIN.

When they finally come up upon the elm the sun is high in the sky, easily approaching noon. She doesn't need to be a country girl to know that. The earth around the tree is green and untouched a sign no one has been out this way in some time. The elm is old and timeless, a sole sentinel watching over its territory. A guardian left from a bygone age. It’s romantic in a way. Thin spindly branches that reach out and up unhindered by crowding. It’s tall and wide and ethereal, like something out of a novel. It’s branches stretch out, hooked and gnarled sprouting off into new life, like a relay race to the sky.

Ben hops down first, placing the basket under the tree as he ties Logan to one of its low hanging branches. There’s enough slack on the tethers that the horse can move around quite a bit, content to graze on fresh grass as Ben makes his way over to Rey and Clyde.

If this were a novel she’d fall gracefully into his arms and he’d catch her like she was a princess. The idea makes her laugh as Ben goes about instructing her on how to dismount. Rey is very much not a princess and as graceful as a camel in roller skates. She almost kicks Ben in the face as she swings her leg over but he steadies her hips as she slides down off the saddle landing with a thud at Ben’s feet. It’s not a tumbling princess act but she sways a little, her back bumping into his chest as his arms come to steady her.

“You did good,” he tells her softly, almost like he’s impressed.

Rey gives Clyde a grateful pat as though to say, ‘hear that buddy,’ as Ben leads him away to tie him next to Logan. The two seem happy to mill about, eating grass and sniffing the air as Ben pulls a blanket from the back of Logan’s saddle. She hadn’t realized he’d taken it but is grateful all the same as the grass still seems a little damp.

Once Ben has finished his task of blanket laying, something he takes particular care in doing, they sit and begin to pull out the food.

“Jesus, what did you pack,” Ben laughs as he pulls out a Tupperware container filled with cut-up watermelon and a jar full of what she was told is strawberry pomegranate jam. It sounded delightful and would be excellent with a bit of honey on a biscuit.

“I didn’t know what you’d like. Hux told me you weren’t a sweets kind of person,” Ben gives her a look, one she can’t quite place as she continues, “So I just packed a little over everything. There’s some Havarti in there with some gouda and that’s gruyere there," she points to a particularly hard looking cheese, "and I picked up some local pepperoni and prosciutto and I’m not sure what that is but I tasted it and it was delicious.”

“This is a lot…” Ben muses with a soft smile, “I don’t think a woman has ever made such an effort before…” he seems tongue-tied, his cheeks a soft pink that she notices extends to his ears.

The admission does something to her she can’t quite describe. It makes her heart flutter and her mind a little muddy, like being dunked in a warm vat of honey all oozing and sweet, “It’s nothing, I got a bit of an advance on my book because I managed to hand in a bunch of chapters. They were happy and voila,” she waves her hand as she settles onto her hip. She doesn’t want to make it into something it’s not but suddenly… she wants very much for it to be more then it is.

“How’s that going anyway?” Ben asks as he cuts himself a piece of gruyere pairing it with a simple cracker, “Country life helping the creativity?”

Country life and company she thinks but doesn’t want to admit that out loud. She can’t even if it is true, “Yes, a lot other then Harrison of course.”

Ben’s laugh is loud and bright and deep. The sound of church bells calling it’s worshippers home, “Yeah… he’s something else. I don’t know how he’s still alive honestly. They aren’t known to live an exceptionally long life and that old buzzard has gotten himself into some scraps. He fought off a raccoon last year and I thought I was going to lose him but he’s still here and so are the chickens. I would have lost half the flock.”

“So he’s useful,” Rey offers, trying to find the bright lining to Harrison and his aggressive existence.

Ben makes a ‘hmming’ noise over another mouthful of deliciously cured meats, licking away the crumbs at the corner of his mouth before he speaks, “He is… and he’s funny. I guess you have to know him to kind of get it. It’s just me up here a lot so I have the animals. They’re like family.”

“And your mum and your dad?”

“Mum comes around sometimes, Dad only when it has to do with the cows. We don’t get on much,” Ben admits.

“Oh, that's too bad, he seems fun. Maybe it’s just I feel like he gets me,” she offers wistfully before brushing it off with a laugh, “he sounds… proud of you for what it's worth?”

“Whattaya mean he gets you?” Ben’s eyes are deep and curious when she looks up, his face cast in dappled sunlight.

“You know,” Rey teases, but it seems Ben doesn’t. Right, he doesn’t know anything about her. It’s been so long since she’s spent time with people who don’t know her story inside out. Will he pity her? Will he laugh? Does it even matter? She’s only here for the summer anyway, “Your Dad grew up in the system, so did I. Though they were a lot kinder when granting me a surname. I can’t believe someone got away with registering a kid as ‘Solo’ it seems lazy and cruel.”

“Dad likes it, don’t let it fool you, though I am sorry… I didn’t know.”

Rey waves him off easily but doesn’t miss how his body shifts a little closer, his hand sliding across the blanket until it’s almost touching hers. He looks shy almost sweet. His face hard-lined with soft swells and a scar that bisects his face and runs down his neck. It still looks pink, that stage before a scar turns to white and sets into one's features permanently. When Hux mentioned Ben having a scar she hadn’t expected something that was so delicately jarring.

They talk easily, enjoying the wine and the food like old friends back together after too long apart. Ben is easy to talk to and smarter then she expected. Not that she expected him to be dumb, no, but he’s well-read though doesn’t make a show of it. They talk about his mother, about the horses, about how he met Hux when they were young. He teases her about her fancy choice in cheeses, he’s never had gouda before and tells her he knows what she’s trying to do with a grin. His smile comes easier now, his dimples etched into his face pulling her attention always back to those lips. The ones that look so pillowy soft and kissable. She wonders if they’d taste like apple now or the salty bite of the prosciutto

The more they talk the more she wants to touch him, to touch it his scar. To run her fingers along its smooth lines and kiss where it pickers around his jaw. She wants him to know that he’s beautiful like this, his hair ruffled, a bit of mud streaked across his cheek from there Logan had nudged him with his nose. She’s so lost in his face that when his pinky slides over hers it makes her gasp softly and swallowed hard. The touch was unexpected… wasn’t it?

Or had she hoped for this all along?

Embolden by her response Ben slides a little closer, his thigh bumping hers, eyes flickering between her gaze and her lips. She can hear the way his tongue clicks off his teeth after it roves along his bottom lip slowly. He’s so close, so very close and yet still not close enough, the smell of him strong, like clean soap and skin and something warm and fresh and a little spicy “Rey…” He offers softly, a heavy swallow and his eyes are on her lips again.

“Ben,” she counters and his breath hitches. As though the sound of his name on her lips is everything he’s ever wanted. For half a second she wonders if he’s going to pull away, maybe ask her if he can kiss her. It would be romantic and sweet but maybe too on the nose. This isn’t a YA romance, this is life and… oh…

His lips descend on hers in an instant, it’s soft and then hard and then warm and so perfect. Their noses bump as Ben’s presses into her cheek and he inhales sharply as though drawing her in as deep as he can. The angle is too much, too harsh, Rey has to lean back in order to catch his lips the way she wants to and then she’s falling back, her hands sliding against the blanket beneath her. Ben follows a hand on her neck, her whole neck as he leans into the kiss pressing his advantage.

His lips move with languid ease, begging her to reciprocate, a slip of the tongue, a deep rumble in his chest and her fingers are in his hair. She’s pulling him against her as she adjusts their position. Ben settles between her knees holding himself over her by one extended arm, the other hand still holding her neck, his fingers sliding along her jaw so soft, so sweet. It feels like he’s melting into her and it’s perfect.

It’s Rey who pulls them under though, Ben’s kisses innocent as she parts her lips and welcomes his tongue. It’s Rey who whimpers into his mouth, arms sliding over his shoulders until she’s pulled him flush against her. He settles between her legs without hesitation and he’s there just there she needs him. A soft dip of his hips and she can feel just how badly he needs it too.

They kiss and paw and groan like teenagers. Each shift of her hips met by a deep growl from Ben, Each grind of his met with a gasp from Rey. She can feel his hand as it slides from her neck, down her chest, a smooth palm across her peeked nipple which only spurs Ben on. His touch is feather-light as his hand slips beneath her flannel shirt, dancing across her belly, over her ribs and higher.

Another gentle press of his hips and she squeezes him between her knees holding him there, his cock straining beneath the zipper of his jeans. She scratches and claws through the thick flannel of his shirt tugging the material up his back just a little as he groans her name against her lips.

Nothing exists but this. This moment is for them and them alone. “Rey,” he warns through a kiss. “Darlin. slow. down,” his speech stuttered by her lips. Doesn’t he want this? Doesn’t he want her? The fear of rejection burns hot as he pulls away just a little. His face hovering above hers as he stares down at her his eyes so dark and wanting. “Sweetheart…” he coos, his hand gone from beneath his shirt, stroking her jaw and then her nose softly. Blunt fingertips that are calloused and rough but feel good against her skin. “You’re making it real hard to be a gentleman,” he warns and if that isn’t the sexiest thing she’s ever god damn heard…

She kisses him again and it’s softer this time, not hurried or frantic, “I’m not gonna fuck you in the field under the old Elm with my parent's names scratched into it like some summer romance cliche,” his breath falls warm against her skin, his nose nuzzling softly against her own.

“I’d be oddly ok with that,” she tells him earnestly, “ but the look he gives her is hard and hurt like she’s said something wrong.

“And then what?”

“What do you mean?” She wants him to go back to being sweet and warm. Though his fingers still trace her jaw, his tone lacks the breathy rumble it once had and it doesn’t sit right. Instead it makes her feel strangely empty.

“I fuck you right here, right now,” His voice wavers ever so slightly, “I give you what you want, make you come for me, make you breathless,” he speaks into her neck, his nose trailing along the shell of her ear, “Give you my cock until your legs feel weak until you shudder beneath me… until I can’t help but come inside you because your pussy is so warm and sweet and so fucking perfect.” Rey swallows, as he sucks on her earlobe, a soft pull before his nose nuzzles behind it. “And then what sweetheart? Is that it? Are we some summer romance? Am I fuel for your book?”

Ben presses his hips into her again, he’s still hard, he still wants this but he’s holding himself back, “I’m not a one and done kind of guy Rey,” the way her name sounds in his mouth is enough to make her come, “I’m not going to fuck you here, lose myself in the heat of your cunt, have the sounds you make when you come etched into my memory just to lose it all in a few weeks.” He wants… more. She realizes slowly, more than just the promise of release and a place to stick his dick. He wants a place where he can set his heart and know that it will be protected. This… this is what romance is. The thing she’s written about without ever truly understanding it.

“What do you want Ben?” she nearly croaks, leaning in to kiss his neck, nipping softly at the flesh where it dips into his shoulder before nuzzling it softly with her nose. She wants to hear it, needs to hear it. It’s a matter of morbid curiosity at this point because when he says it she knows she’ll feel it. The moment her heart breaks just a little because what it is he’s asking isn’t something she can give.

Is it?

“I want,” he starts, leaving her on pins and needles as his lip trembles against her ear.

It’s then that the horses move, their legs shifting as they nicker and paw at the earth. It’s not much at first. At least it doesn’t seem it but Ben is gone and Rey is left to lay on her back panting and hot and still so desperate to hear him say it. Whatever it was he was about to admit. She wants to know, needs to know and yet part of her already does.

People don't fall in love after a handful of texts and one quick date. If that's even what this is but Ben makes her feel like it's possible. Like his heart is calling out to hers, singing 'Love me, love me, love me'

It’s too much, it’s not enough… it’s everything.

“Fucking coyotes,” she hears Ben grumble, as her eyes follow him around the field. There's a flurry of movement by the trees as an animal takes off. “come on, we gotta get.” He grunts as he helps her to her feet and starts to pack away what's left of their picnic. There isn’t much.

The ride back is uncomfortable, the silence strained and uneasy. When Clyde and Logan are dismissed Ben hands her the picnic basket back and casts her a soft sad smile. “Thank you…” he says, his voice earnest and easy, “It was… lovely.” His hand cups her cheek, his eyes soft and wanting as he dips in and places a kiss on the corner of her mouth, “I gotta go find Hux, Coyotes in the backfield gotta be dealt with. You be careful your walk home ok?”

“It’s just down the lane,” She finds herself offering but his smile is still unsure as he nods and leads her from the barn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic picks up [Here](https://twitter.com/rebelscumreylo/status/1264734877817229313) on Twitter


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “But it’s ok if I come?”
> 
> “Self-imposed torture Darlin, at least it gives me something to think about when you’re gone.”

She watched him in the firelight though she didn’t want to admit to herself that was what she was doing. His face impassive as he nurses his third no maybe fourth beer of the evening. It can’t be helped really, he’s sitting right across from her, right in her line of eyesight like the big brooding beautiful man that he is. How is she to blame if her eyes linger for a little too long on the way his nose slopes just enough to make his lips look plush and ready to be kissed.

He doesn’t look at her though, he seems to look everywhere but at her as a matter of fact. Frustrating grump of a man that he is. The concept of someone not doing casual in this day and age is positively mind-boggling. It’s a thing, of course, she knows its a thing. Monogamy has not gone the way of the dinosaurs but people their age… they have fun, don’t they? They dip their toes in the pool to see if it's too hot or too cold or maybe… maybe just right,

What she wouldn’t give to have Ben dip his toe in her pool. By toe, she obviously means cock and pool... well... she's already a little wet just thinking about it. 

As though picking up on her line of thought, she hadn’t said that out loud right? Ben shifts looking uncomfortable in his seat. Hux and Rose are talking animatedly about Poe of all things, laughing about a rugby game that happened before she was friends with any of them.

Hux it turns out broke Poe’s nose during a university match. Now that would have been a sight.

Mikata and his wife joined them for the evening and their friend Tai too who was currently trying to engage Ben in conversation. Ben’s response to this is a grunt as he pushes himself out of his chair and makes some excuse about checking on the horses before it gets too late.

“I fed them less than an hour ago,” Mitaka calls after him but it doesn’t seem to matter, Ben’s gone from the fireside and disappearing into the darkness back towards where Clyde and Logan can be seen nibbling on grass. They shift as they see Ben approaching, the whites of their heads glowing like spirits in the light of the moon.

Hux mumbles something that sounds like 'moody bastard' but Rey can feel both he and Rose looking at her. A silent urging to go after him, to tell him he’s being an idiot. Or something like that anyway.

After a moment or two Tai grumbles, “Ben’s being a fucking asshole tonight, should one of us go and knock some sense into him?” Mitaka and Hux share a glance that manages to fall directly into Rey’s lap.

Oh good, Mitaka knows somethings going on too…

“I’ll go,” Rey says softly pushing herself up onto her feet. Rose reaches out to give her hand a soft squeeze as Hux throws her a thumbs up and without another thought to the matter Rey is making her way across the front yard of the old farmhouse in the dark.

It’s eery in a way that's also beautiful. Coruscant never gets dark like this, always illuminated by the hum of the neon lights and storefronts that never really close. Even in her little apartment on the cities outer limits, there’s a glow that never quite goes away. Like the city simply radiates life, the gentle hum of it something Rey never thought she could live without. White noise in the background to keep her calm and even.

Then she experienced the simplicity of disconnecting. The beauty of the stars, the calm of the peepers or whatever Ben had called the animals that made the gentle chirping noises at nights. This way of being, this true quiet was something Rey had not been prepared to enjoy.

Much like the brooding farmer who seemed intent on simply ignoring her now.

She finds him standing in the dark Logan’s head cradled between his hands. The massive creature snorts, his ears twitching as Rey enters quietly. Her sandals slip in the hay but she manages to catch herself against the wall as Clyde nickers playfully. It sounds like he’s laughing as he tosses his head up and down a few times before finally giving it a shake.

Ben doesn’t say a word but she can see his fingers twitch ever so slightly as he slowly pats the space between Logan’s eyes. It feels like intruding on a private moment as Ben presses his head against Logan’s big nose holding is hand flat beneath his mouth. The horse's lips move happily as it accepts the treat and then noses at Ben once more in thanks.

She should say something, it feels like she should anyway but what can she say that wouldn’t come across rude or desperate. She hadn’t thought this through, her mind had only taken her to the front door but it lingered on the hard part. On the part where she was actually supposed to interact with him.

“Hux send you?” Ben finally asks though he’s still not looking at her. A fact that makes her seethe.

“Tai thought you were being a jerk,” she offers lightly, fighting her instinct to flee.

“A jerk huh? That’s mild for Tai.”

“He called you a fucking asshole,” she counters.

Ben laughs as he says, “That sounds more like it,” pulling away from the horse and starts towards Rey. His eyes look like pitch in the darkness of the barn, the whites glowing against dark lashes and a sharp brow. He looks dangerous like this, his hair swept back but curled around his ears. She’s never seen him willingly display them before. The moonlight accents the sharp features of his nose pulling her eyes down to his mouth again. He doesn’t look happy to see her, more curiously pained as he presses his lips together harshly.

One minute he’s there just feet away and then next he’s hovering over her, his arms boxing her in against the bar wall. Logan nickers and paws at the earth as he turns to exit the barn. No longer interested in the humans now that he’s had his treat and Ben’s attention is found elsewhere. Clyde, on the other hand, stands watching curiously, his ears twitching as Rey squeaks softly flattening herself against the barn board.

“What are you after here little girl?” Ben’s voice comes out in a low rumble, his breath warm against her cheek smelling of hops and something that's both bitter and sweet at the same time.

She’s been called a lot of things before but little girl has never been one of them. It tingles along her spine making her feel fragile beneath his posture. His nose so close to her cheek she can feel the ghost of its touch.

He’s there, he’s right there, all she has to do is reach out and touch him. Fear swirls within her. Not of him, no she’s not afraid of Ben. She’s afraid of the rejection she’ll feel if he pulls away from her touch.

He’s a long term kind of guy, he doesn’t want some quick fuck in the hay. The thought makes her knees quiver causing her to slide against the wall just a little. “Ben…” she tries but he’s quirking his head to the side observing her carefully.

“Tell me Rey.” it’s a demand spoken in soft terms. A gentle urging, a need to hear it.

It’s like there’s a string tied on the truth with lingers on her tongue and Ben just keeps tugging and tugging at it, “I want…” she says with a shudder, looking a the barn floor, then Ben’s arms then his face. His facial hair thicker then it had been the last time she was this close. Just at that point before it’s too long. It curls around his mouth disconnected from the scruff on his chin. Scruff she wants to tug with her fingers until his mouth is hovering just above hers.

Instead Ben beats her to it, a hand on her jaw, thumb and index cradling it sharply until their lips just barely touch. “What do you want sweetheart?”

It should sting, she should pull away, resist the hold that she can’t help but melt into. With a soft whimper, she hears the words tumble passed her lips, gentle encouragement, a plea, a need for something, for him, “You.”

Ben growls, he actually, honest to god growls. She’s never heard a man make a noise like that before him. Before she knows what she’s doing she’s kissing him. His lips steal her breath away as he returns it with fervour. His mouth slanting of hers hot and needy. With a small gasp, she inadvertently allows him entrance, his tongue sweeping along her bottom lip until he’s biting it. Not hard, a gentle nip and the hold on her jawline softens until his hand is cradling her neck and her jaw, fingers lost in her hair. 

With a gentle tug that he soothes with his tongue, he works into her delicately. Slowly urging her mouth open as his lips move in a slow and easy rhythm. Lazy kisses that she can sink into, her arms thrown around his neck pulling him down against her. It feels like she’s burning up, his free hand settled against her low back pulling her hips until they’re flush against his own.

There’s that growl again, a rumbling deep in his throat as his teeth nip again at her lip, harder this time. A gentle warning of passions simmering beneath the surface. Poe’s words fluttering through her mind, ‘Ben Solo Fucks’

It feels like he could crush her like he wants to fucking destroy her. He pushes her back against the barn wall, his leg slotted between her thighs. The sudden friction makes her gasp as his lips trail away from her mouth over her cheek and down her neck. She can feel them quirked in a smile before he bites the corded muscle that pops out when her head turns just so. “such a sweet little thing,” his voice rumbles in her ear, “You’re so sensitive, Rey?” As if to prove his point the hand on her lower back slips beneath her shirt traipsing in a feather-light pattern over her stomach and up over her chest. Broad calloused thumbs slide over her nipple, pebbled beneath his attention through the lace of her bralette. “You have such perfect little tits.”

“They’re small,” she says softly, not entirely sure why.

Without warning he has her shirt pulled up exposing her skin to the cool night air. He doesn’t say a word but dips in close, his mouth over her breast as he works his tongue against the lace. It feels obscene, rough and sweet and warm. His mouth saturating the fabric while his fingers gently tug, tug, tug it down until his tongue meets flesh.

Rey tries to squeeze her thighs together but can’t with his leg pressed between them. She needs friction, her feet slipping on the hay strewn ground causing her cunt to rub harshly against Ben’s thigh. The thick jean is almost too much but not enough as he kisses her sternum, his thumb rubbing wet circles before pinching her nipple harshly. It should hurt, but the sharp bite feels delicious as he pulls just a little before licking it again soothing the sting with his mouth.

“Fuck Ben,” she sighs, her eyes closed, head falling back against the barn board with a thunk.

“So fucking pretty,” Ben mutters against her chest, “The noises you make,” he bites off with his own punctuated grumble, “—could listen to them all fucking night.”

The sensation of his touch is heightened by the timber of his words as he leaves her chest and finds his way back to her neck. His lips are soft, kittenish and sweet as the trail their way back to her mouth pressing one soft kiss there before he pulls back and smiles. She can feel his leg sliding between hers, pushing up, harder, higher making her whimper softly, chewing on her lip. “Ben.”

“You keep saying my name like that, all breathy and sweet,” he says nipping her ear lobe softly, “You know you’re driving me fucking crazy right?”

Is she?

Rey’s feeling a little crazy right now, pent up, twisted around. Like the ropes on a swing when she used to lay on her belly and twist around and around. Any second now it’ll let go. Instead, it coils tighter and tighter with the promise of that swirling release.

“No harm in making you come just this once I suppose,” he says it like he’s deciding to go with the red plaid, not the green. As if it’s that simple, something he does or could do anytime, “I’m not fucking you though sweetheart.”

“Your heart in your dick Ben?” she quips pathetically making him laugh.

It’s loud and bright and full-bodied making his thigh slide between her legs as he chuckles, “No…” he gives a soft shrug, “It’s not that. It’s the coming inside you part.”

Rey tries for casual but comes across needy when she says, “Who said I’d let you come inside,” who is she kidding? That’s exactly where she wants him to come. She can pretend otherwise, maybe if she wasn’t so keyed up she might even be believable but Ben sees through her clearly.

“No,” he offers with a smirk, “But whether it's inside you or all over your pretty little tits it fucking means something. Like I’m making you as mine.”

“That’s a little primitive don't you think.”

“Sweetheart, I would paint you in my cum if it meant you were mine.”

“I— Ben— I” she tries, flustered because now she can’t get that image out of her head.

So focused on that thought she barely registers the loss of pressure from his thigh or the pressure as Ben’s fingers pop open the button of her jeans. The hiss of her zipper punctuated by a soft nip at her jaw, “But it’s ok if I come?”

“Self-imposed torture Darlin, at least it gives me something to think about when you’re gone.”

But she doesn’t want to think about that, part of her even wants to admit that she might be staying but it feels a little like coercion. And then his hand is slipping into her pants shimmying them down just a little to make room. She can feel his finger as it presses lightly against her underwear that is already far too wet to be decent. “Rey—“ It’s there, a flaw in his armour, a way to his heart if only she could…

Then his finger slides against her, one long and slow strong pushing the sodden fabric against her opening and suddenly that thought slips from her mind.

Another time maybe, information stored as her hindbrain keens and begs for more.

His hand slides up, his mouth on her neck, nose nuzzling behind her ear as he finds the elastic band of her underwear and slowly pushes his way inside. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she wishes she’d thought to clean up a little. She’d have spruced up had she known she was going to have company. Still, Ben doesn’t seem to care, no he’s a man on a mission. Those deliciously broad fingertips pushing lower and lower until they dip into where she’s wettest. One finger parts her folds blindly, slipping through her wet heat like petting a kitten. Soft and easy the flat of his finger bumping her clit as he works his way inside.

“You’re so wet sweetheart, so fucking wet.” Ben rumbles against her ear as his teasing slows. Before she knows it he’s sliding one finger inside. Just one, but his one is the size of her two she realizes with a moan feeling his hand adjust against her public bone so his finger can slide in deeper.

He uses the one, working a slow rhythm as his lips move to her throat, his teeth scraping lightly, “From just a little teasing?” he groans, “what would happen if you did have my cock hmm? Would you drip all over it? Coat my balls in your cum as I fucked into you?”

So lost on his words she nearly misses the way he slips a second finger in with the first, “Ahhh—“ she starts, lurching forward into his chest, groping at the front of his soft plaid as she tries to steady herself.

He does it again, harder this time, crooking his fingers forward with a slow drag as he pulls out, “There?” he hums, but she’s not entirely sure what he means. One more time, fingers wiggling against her front wall and he hits it. That thing he was looking for. “Ah… there.” he purrs repeating the motion once more for good measure. It’s hot and sweet in a way she feels down to her toes.

Her forehead hits his chest as he continues to work into her. Her breath falling in soft pants as Ben’s thumb slides through the wet heat of her slick to stroke her clit. “You’re so tight, such a sweet little cunt,” he offers as praise, his hand slowing, nearly stopping as he adds another finger to the two and then pushes them inside. It almost feels like too much, the stretch and sweet burn coaxing her open just for him. His thumb rolls over her clit in slow circles as he pushes inside. It’s slower this time with pressure applied to the front in an easy downstroke, searching again.

“Ben,” she warns, “Ben— I don’t— I haven’t—“

“Haven’t what sweetheart, use your words,” he simpers.

Easy for him to say. She shivers as his fingers move, a slow slide, stroking her inside as he fumbles across that spot again. She gasps squeezing the front of his shirt to the point she’s worried she might actually rip the buttons open.

A shame, that would be a downright shame.

“I haven’t— I don’t—“ she tries again but there’s this feeling of pressure building up that increases every time Ben crooks his fingers which he hasn’t stopped doing yet. He hits it and this time she sees stars, not quite a release but something building into one, “What,” she cries out, gasping for air, “Is that?”

“That,” he does it again to make a point she’s sure, “Is your g spot.” He sounds full of himself and if she wasn’t so full of his fingers she might find herself indignant. It turns out Ben Solo does indeed fuck if his fingers are any indication.

Rey squirms beneath his attention, the pressure building to something dangerous, “Ben— I feel— I feel—“

“Do you want me to stop?” he asks softly, his cheek nuzzling against her head, “You tell me to stop Darlin and I will.” But stopping is the last thing she wants. Or is it? She can’t be sure because that building pressure is pushing at something deep, something that feels like… “Fuck Rey, you’re dripping…” and Ben says it with such reverence she can’t imagine how that could be wrong?

“Don’t stop—“ she pants, “Fuck Ben— don’t stop.”

His thumb, circling around the hood of her clit for a few strokes slips against it causing her to jolt, “Wish I could see this,” Ben groans, “Watch the way your cunt swallows my fingers. You’re doing so well. I’m going to make you come all over my hand Rey.”

A soft whimper flutters passed her lips, her legs shaking struggling to hold her up. It’s there, like a cresting wave as his thumb rolls against her clit, his fingers now rocking into her petting along that fucking spot.

“That’s it, my darling girl, almost there.” It starts with a flutter, clenching around his fingers as it steals over her, “Good—good,” Ben’s praise feels like warm butter over popcorn. Her mind crackling and snapping as it hits her hard. The moan that escapes her is a blow building sound, that peeks into a whine as she leans into Ben for support. That’s when it happens, something strange, something that feels like it should be embarrassing, something that involves far more liquid than a normal orgasm. It leaves her gasping for air, her hands clinging to his plaid as her mind tries to rally around what just happened.

“I— I—“ she tries through gulps of air, her weight supported partially by the wall and partially by Ben now and thank god for that. Her pants feel wet, her nerves a frayed mess as she stumbles into a euphoric sort of panic.

Ben, to his credit, says nothing as she catches her breath, “I’m so sorry.” she manages to gasp through a half-choked sob, “Th-that’s never happened before.” Her thighs tremble and if she’s being honest she’s a little mortified about what her body just did. She can feel Ben breathing, slow and heavy, her head rising and falling against his chest.

“You’ve never?” He asks quietly, his fingers still buried inside her, petting softly. She’s too sensitive, her body quivering with each light stroke like he’s plucking at her nerves, playing her like a string instrument. Her foot twitches, sliding against the barn floor and his hand is forced deeper, painfully so causing her to hiss.

Ben, pulls his hand out slowly, trying to catch her attention as she shudders, feeling painfully empty now. “Sweet girl,” he offers, tilting her chin with a curled finger so that he can finally look into her face. She feels flushed and hot and sleepy as Ben smiles at her before bringing his fingers up and licking them off.

“That—“ isn’t he disgusted with her? Her pants feel warm and wet and horrendously uncomfortable making her squirm.

“Was incredibly sexy,” he tells her rather matter of factly. “You’ve never done that before?”

Rey shakes her head feeling rather childish like she’s missing something, “No.”

“Sweetheart,” he starts, “Oh baby girl —“ his tone sweet as he kisses her forehead and then her nose before landing softly on her mouth. Chaste and kind as his lips quirk into a dark sort of smile, “You’re going to kill me,” he mutters almost to himself as pulls her tight against his chest, “I want to ruin you for all other men Rey.” It comes out like a promise, something she can chase because dear god does she want him too. 

The things she would have him do to her, break her apart so he can put her back together. Bury himself deep inside as he fucks her, fills her full until his cum spills out and drips down her legs. Hold her down, force her knees to her chest so he can catch that same angle, make her come that hard again only this time on his cock. All things she could enjoy if only she were staying. Would an extra month or two be enough?

It would be a start. 

Yes… staying an extra couple of months would definitely be good for her… soul.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic picks up [Here](https://twitter.com/rebelscumreylo/status/1270918558965530624) on Twitter


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can someone die from a lack of sex?
> 
> No, maybe not a lack of sex.
> 
> Can someone die from sexual frustration?
> 
> Ben might if he doesn’t smarten up. Not because his balls won’t survive another round of shameless flirtation but because Rey might actually kill him.

There’s a soft knock, just once, a knuckle bouncing against the solid wood door. Old oak, she muses to herself because that makes sense. She’s lying in a bathtub filled with bubbles that smell like vanilla cupcakes of all things, and she’s thinking about what the fucking door is made of. 

Priorities, Rey. Her mind reminds her, but it’s hard to think straight because she’s pretty sure she’s about to have sex. Or… she’s hoping she might be about to have sex. At the very least, Ben Solo is about to walk into this room and surely to god something is going to happen. If it doesn’t, there’s an excellent chance that Rey might spontaneously combust. Can someone die from a lack of sex?

No, maybe not a lack of sex. 

Can someone die from sexual frustration? 

Ben might if he doesn’t smarten up. Not because his balls won’t survive another round of shameless flirtation but because Rey might actually kill him.

That’s not fair, if he really didn’t want to have sex, she could accept that fact. It’s just… if he didn’t want to have sex, telling her he did want it was cruel and would, at the very least warrant a punch in the nose. 

And what a nose it is. 

She hears the door click and squeak as it slides open slowly. Ben, on the other side, is peering in as though he’s afraid she might tell him to leave. His hand curls around the door itself, fingers grasping at the solid wood and Rey can’t help but think about the talent behind those digits.

“R-“ he starts and then clears his throat, “Rey?” He’s halfway through the door now, his cheeks the most adorable shade of pink that clashes horribly with the red plaid of his flannel. He looks like a little boy, afraid he’s going to be scolded. Standing with his back to the door which he now pushes shut sealing them inside together.

“Gonna join me?” she tries to sound confident but it comes out more like a whisper. He makes the space around him seem tiny and inferior like it’s not big enough for him to exist comfortably. This bathroom is done up like a country cottage dream, making Rey wonder if Ben decorated it himself or maybe let his mother do it. 

Still, it fits him, the white walls decorated in dark barn board, the ladder shelf that holds the biggest, fluffiest towels Rey has ever seen. He’d need large towels though, there’s a lot of him to dry off after all. And oh, how she would love to take on that job, rubbing the soft cotton against his body until he purrs. 

God, she wants to make him purr.

Rey watches carefully as Ben toys with the buttons on his flannel, pulling the fabric from the waist of his dark bootcut jeans, “Do—do you want me too?”

A soft nod and his hands quicken, fingers nibbling stumbling over buttons that seem to vex and confuse him. She wishes she could help, wants to see him stripped by her own hands but isn’t ready to leave the safety and warmth of the bubbles. 

Instead, she watches, absorbed in each small piece of pale flesh granted. How he’s managed to spend so much time in the sun and avoid getting beautifully tanned seems like some unholy miracle but gets filed away under, ‘things to ask about later’ as his flannel drops to the floor and Ben works to pull his undershirt up and over his head. His stomach contracts, muscles shifting beneath the skin. His chest looks like something out of one of Rosie’s smutty romance novels. The ones that Rey definitely has never read. No, Never.

He’s all pale skin and smooth muscle definition that makes her want to do unspeakably dirty things to him. She wonders what he’d taste like, salty probably. While they were all enjoying a tour of his uncle’s vineyard Ben had spent the day working on the farm. How the hell he manages to still smell so good… another thing to ask later because fuck if he isn’t a vision. A soft trail of hair trickling down from his belly button to disappear beneath the waistband of his pants. Pants that his hands are busy working at now, his motions slow and deliberate. 

Carefully he toes off his cowboy boots and Rey has half a mind to ask him to put them back on later. For… reasons, but they’re kicked to the side and his pants are open and shimmying down over his hips. 

She’s pleased to find Ben has chosen to go commando. His dark little treasure trail erupting in a thatch of neatly trimmed hair that sits above a cock that might be the most impressive specimen Rey has ever laid eyes on. 

Someone was prepared. 

Pulling his pants down over his heels he manages to hook off his socks leaving him utterly nude and looking a little uncomfortable. Words die on her lips, she’s a writer for god sake and all she can do is stare because… cock.

It hangs like a weight between his legs, heavy and thick making her wonder how he manages to walk or sit or move at all. 

For just a moment Rey isn’t entirely sure what it is she’s supposed to do. An odd concept because she’s definitely done this before just not with him and for some reason that changes things. Ben is just standing there in all of his glory no more than a few feet from the edge of the tub, “Touch yourself,” she tries. 

His eyes go wide, and she wonders for half a second if he’s going to comply. His cock twitches with a bounce making Rey wet her lips. There’s a certain power here, huddled in the warmth afforded by the bubbles watching as this giant tree of a man slowly complies. His hand wraps around it softly in a loose sort of fist. It’s mesmerizing to watch, his hand moving in languid and practiced strokes. A motion she’s sure he’s got down to a science. 

Each loose pump of his fist brings him closer to where she wants him until she's watching the head of his cock being swallowed up by foreskin that’s getting just a little tighter now. His swollen glans red and irritated as his thumb slides up and over it. 

Rey can feel the heat pooling between her legs as she watches, slipping further unto the bubbles. Her knees bump against the side of the tub legs spread but real prize remains hidden from his view. She had a plan at one point. Flirtatious and seductive but now all she wants is to feel that hard cock pressed tightly between her legs. 

Fuck all the foreplay but Ben doesn’t strike her as the type to skip straight to dessert. He’s a man who likes a meal and with the way he’s eyeing her up Rey is starting to feel like a five-course delicacy. 

“Not fair baby girl,” Ben grumbles and he’s never called her that before, “Don’t go hiding on me now. I wanna see that pretty pussy of yours.” 

Fuck, the mouth on him.

Rey lets out a soft sort of whimper, her fingers trailing through her slick folds in a way that’s more casual than purposeful. It’s more for the reaction which she gets in an instant. The growl that rumbles through Ben’s chest is positively primal, his teeth worrying his lower lip as he stalks towards the tub still lazily fisting his cock, “Open your mouth,” he orders and with some hesitation, Rey manages to comply. It’s more a soft parting of her lips, her tongue wriggling back and forth, more teasing, more pushing. Wondering just how far she might manage to take this, “Fuck you’re a brat,” She whines as Ben’s hand stops, his cock hard and standing tall. A thick shaft that extends from a thicker root, decorated in delicate veins, “I said open your mouth.” 

This time Rey leans forward, her breasts pressed against the edge of the tub, dusty rosebud nipples exposed to the air. There are trails of water dripping down over her forearms as she presents herself like a good little girl, her jaw dropped open wide as she waits for his next move. 

“Look at you, looking all pretty, your pink little tongue just waiting. You want this?” He squeezes this time, pumping his shaft until the tip glistens with precum, “Clean that off for me sweetheart.” 

A thrill runs through her as she rushes to comply, her tongue darting out past her lips to lick at the head softly.

Ben’s smile is sweet, as he cups her cheek and nudges himself playfully against her lips, “Such a sweet girl, god I can’t wait to fuck you,” Her hands slip up over the tight muscles of Ben’s thighs before she pushes him passed her lips, wrapping them around him gently. Ben’s hand finds the back of her head, a gentle pressure, a reminder, a plea as she sinks down all the way until she feels that little bit of resistance starting at the back of her throat. “Look at you,” Ben coos, his thumb rounding the apple of her cheek just before she hallows them. 

The straggled groan that erupts from him is enough to make her cum right there. Lifting her gaze just a little she watches Ben’s eyes close as his head tilts back, his chest heaving, gasping for air, “Fuck Darlin,” he pants as she allows her throat to relax. She’s determined to do this, one hand wrapping itself around the base of his shaft marvelling at the way her fingers are unable to touch. Fuck he’s big. 

Rey’s mouth waters as she eases a little further, saliva pooling before trickling down the corners of her mouth. In one quick movement, she pumps her fist, using her drool as a lubricant. With a hesitant bob she moves against him, hand and mouth moving in tandem in a slow and clunky rhythm. It takes a moment or two before she feels she’s comfortably got it down, relaxing her jaw to pull him deeper and deeper until her eyes are watering and she’s starting to feel a little light-headed.

Ben, to his credit, has her by the chin easing her back slowly, “God you’re such a sweet little thing,” he chimes, his thumb massaging her jaw as he pulls her back with a satisfying pop. “No more of that though, I don’t want to come yet.”

“You can,” she says softly.

“You want me to come down the back of your throat?” she nods and Ben groans, “Fuck, Rey. You’ve got the sweetest little mouth on you, did you know that? Your tongue feels like heaven, but I bet your pussy will feel even better. I want to make a mess of you Rey. I want to fuck you until you scream and the only name your cunt knows is mine.” 

“Please.” 

His thumb brushes against the swell of her lower lip holding her mouth open. Rey’s brain screams against the ache as his thumb breaches her lips sliding over tongue while his fingers cup her chin, “Sweet girl,” He hums happily, his cock bobbing in front of her like a bouey.

When she reaches out to take him in hand again Ben stops her. His fingers wrapping around her wrist in a loose but insistent grasp. He tugs her to stand stepping into the water so there’s little space between them. His eyes dark, nearly black, his honeyed iris swallowed up but dilated pupil. He wants this she realizes, he wants this more than she ever realized.

Kissing her palm he nuzzles his cheek against it softly, pressing butterfly kisses against her wrist as he goes. He smells like the farm but there’s something else there too lingering beneath the scent of dirt and hay and animals. Something sweet and earthy that makes her heart flutter as she presses her nose against his chest and kisses the skin there. His hands find her back, searching out every inch of skin they can find. Shoulders, hips, neck, roving over and over like a man starved for touch. 

Rey presses her hips into his, pinning his erection between their bodies as she wiggles against him. “mmmmgod— wanna fuck you right here,” he growls lowly in his chest turning her around with little to no effort at all. In this position, her back pressed to his front Ben is able to explore as he pleases. He nips and kisses a soft line along her neck while his hands round her breasts tweaking nipples as they go, “Could bend you over,” he whispers, nosing her ear, the fingers of one large hand slipping between her legs. She can feel the way he pokes and prods, pushing her knees apart so that he can wiggle his fingers between her slick folds until they’re nestled against her entrance. He groans when he discovers just how ready she truly is for him, how much she wants it, wants him, “Fuck sweetheart, you’re so fucking wet.” Rutting his cock against her ass Ben presses against her harder, bending their bodies as he reaches for the taps. 

With little finesse and even litter patience the water is running, hot and welcoming against their bodies while the tub slowly drains and he slides one of his fingers into her aching heat. “I bet my cock would slide right in, what do you think?” he purrs, pushing his finger knuckle deep, “watch this sweet little ass as it bounces while I fuck you from behind.” With a groan, he draws his finger out bringing it to his lips. She can see out of the corner of her eye the way he makes a show of it, sucking the sweet trail of her arousal off his digit as he moans. “You taste so fucking good. I think I’m gonna need to eat that darling little cunt of yours before I fuck it.” 

“Please,” and god how she wants that, “Please Ben.” 

“Mmmmbaby girl, I love when you say my name like that.” his lips on her ear, his tongue swirling around her lobe as he pants against her. His chest is hot and broad and smooth. It feels like heaven pressed against her back as he moves. His hips pushing, his hands searching until he’s pulling his fingers through wet hair, working the soap through that she never realized he’d reached for, “Spread your legs a little,” he tells her and of course, she complies, sucking in a breath when she feels him slide between them. He’s thick and warm, his cock head nudging against her clit. He’s got his knees bent just a little but still, he forces her up on her toes. “Good girl, now close em real tight for me,” he groans when she does, his fingers stuttering in her hair as he works the soap through.

He says nothing else as he rocks them together, dipping his hips as he fucks himself between her thighs. His hands in her hair feel strange when paired with the way his cock moves against her. “Just like that Darlin,” he growls as she starts to move with him, shoulders thrown back to rest her weight against his chest. 

Once done with her hair, Ben soaps up her nipples, his movements growing more erratic, quicker and poorly paced as he works a cloth over her skin. Soon he’s abandoning all pretence of getting clean one large hand roaming over her belly until it’s made its way between her legs. Thick fingers work her apart so that his cock slides against her the way that she needs now. Thick and heavy the head nudges at her clit over and over until he’s cursing and she’s panting and they’re both right there together. Or so it seems. She’s never really seen him come undone before. “Come on sweetheart,” he coaxes, “let go, let go for me.” 

Reaching back she pushes her fingers through thick wet hair and tugs, “Fuck— Ben,” she whines, the high pitch of her voice making his growl become something darker, more dangerous than before, “I— I’m—“ it crests like a wave building up from the deep. The slide, the warmth, the way he holds her labia apart so that he hits her just so. It’s like sweet torture until it’s brilliant and bright. Her body pulls tight, her toes slipping and then he’s catching her with an arm around her middle. Ben pushes and pushes until she’s screaming, no whaling out her pleasure, and pulling at his hair in a way that might border on cruel. Her cunt flutters around nothing, crying out its need to be filled.

If he cares he doesn’t show it. His lips move against her neck as he grumbles and cruses into her skin. His ‘fucks’ and ‘good gods’ a hushed whisper as he groans wildly and comes hard. His spend splattering over she shower curtain in ropes of translucent cum. He’s laughing in her ear, a deep throaty chuckle as he holds her steady and kisses her again, “And that was just the pre-show warm-up.” he says turning her around so that he can look at her. His cheeks are flushed, his eyes still dark, his hair wet and stuck to his face. Even like this, or maybe especially like this, he’s beautiful. 

“Ben,” she giggles, her voice airy and light as she nuzzles into his chest. The water from the shower-head sputters and drips as they stand beneath the rainfall holding each other tight, “Ben,” She says again, not entirely sure why, pressing wet kisses across his collarbones before her lips find his nipple and she gives it a teasing lick. His skin still tastes faintly like salt but sweeter in a way that doesn’t seem real. Large hands roam across her back, trailing over wet skin. Gentle exploration that if she’s honest she’s not quite used to, “Let me wash your hair?” she tries, squinting through the gentle stream of water that pelts her in the face. 

Ben makes a noise that sounds half committal. Like he wants nothing more than to have her hands through his hair but there’s something else too. A need that flags against her belly softly as he leans forward and presses a kiss for her forehead, “You—?”

Pressing up on her toes Rey kisses Ben softly, the kind of kiss that feels like soft rain building into a tempest. Her hands-on his chest press firm as she smiles before wrapping them around his torso to give a firm tug. He movies without protest taking the brunt of the spray leaving Rey to shiver but his hands have her arms in seconds rubbing up and down in an attempt to warm, “Let me, please?” His only response is a dumbfounded nod, watching through freshly wet hair as she moves. It’s strangely empowering the way his mouth hangs open, water dripping off kiss swollen lips. His long, thick, hair plastered to the side of his head and over his nose as he spits out small mouthfuls of water.

She makes quick work of it, trying not to pay attention to the cum dripping down the shower curtain. Ben’s hair is soft even wet, eating up the shampoo Rey manages to find as she works it in with diligent fingers. It’s strange, the angle and placement but not unpleasant she finds, massaging at his scalp for just a little longer than might strictly be considered necessary. They have time though. Most men need a little downtime at least after coming like that and Ben doesn’t seem to be complaining about the attention. Just the opposite in fact. His head is lulled, chin to his chest as Rey works the soap in thoroughly taking special care around his ears and at the hair along the nape of his neck. 

When she’s finished and satisfied she makes him lean back working the water through his hair to rinse out the sweet-smelling bubbles. All in all it doesn’t take long but it feels like they’ve been at this for hours. Her arms are sore from holding them so high and Ben is dazed and utterly blissed out. “That was…” He starts, her fingers tracing the thick column of muscle along his neck. The ones that stand out when he turns his head to the side. He’s a work of art really, and she wonders if he knows this. The skin across his chest as pale as moonlight while his forearms and face she realizes now are actually tanned a warm golden brown. A farmers tan, she muses as he pulls her under the spray of the shower, “You—“

“You—“ she says in return kissing his chest as she snuggles in close. 

Before she realizes what’s happening the shower is turned off and Ben is reaching for a fluffy towel hanging on an old refurbished wooden ladder. He moves around her as though it’s nothing at all wrapping her in the soft cotton before stepping out onto the bath mat. 

Rey watches as he towels himself off before ruffling his hair and then her own in a half based attempt at getting them dry. When he’s done he toes his clothing off to the side and then reaches in scooping Rey up until she’s held firmly against his chest. She ‘meeps’ at the sudden change in position wrapping her arms around his neck as he holds her steady, one arm beneath her knees the other across her low back. “Whatter—“

“I’m hungry,” Ben huffs, adjusting Rey in his arms.

“I think there’s still steak left on the grill, we could —“

“Not for that,” Ben mutters darkly and Rey feels her body heat beneath the implication. 

He has her skirted away from the bathroom and down the hallway in a matter of seconds. His stride is purposeful and quick, so fast she barely has an opportunity to take stalk of where they’re headed. His room obviously but is it the second or the third door on the left. Or is it the right? Which way did they come in? There are stairs at either end of the hallway, one leading down into the open main area where Ben’s living room sits the other leading into the back pantry attached to the kitchen, where she knows they came in. The kitchen opens out onto the backyard where their friends are all still sitting having a good time. Part of her feels almost guilty for leaving them alone like this but then Ben has her in a dimly lit room. One that smells like pine and sandalwood and something a little earthy. Something that reminds her distinctly of Ben. The walls are dark, stained barn boards that look like they’ve been pieced together like a puzzle. His bed is large, then again, so is he, his duvet a dark navy with white trim. 

The door is shut behind them with a deft kick of Ben’s foot and soon enough he has her set down on the bed dropping to his knees at its edge. Her legs hang off helplessly, knees pushed wide. It’s hard to focus on any one thing, her mind alight with the way his hands feel, smooth but still rough, calloused in a way that tells her he’s worked all his life. His duvet is soft, softer than she was prepared for and her eyes struggle to adjust to the lighting. It’s all a little too much but at the same time not enough. His hands, his lips, his breath against her skin. She can feel him looming. 

A kiss on the inside of her knee steals her breath away. Her knee, an area she’s never thought of as being erogenous before and here she is shuddering beneath his attention. Large hands paw their way over her thighs, up legs she’s damn proud of thank you very much until they’re resting against her belly. He seems to be taking his time, touching and exploring however he pleases. 

His lips catch her thigh, moving from one side to the other, his breath warm and sweet as he blows softly against her aching core, “I’m going to make a mess of this sweet little pussy,” he rumbles out carefully, thumbs rubbing in soft circles around the arch of her hip bones. “Would you like that Rey?” is it possible for someone’s voice to sound like sex? Is that a thing that happens? Because Ben’s voice sounds like sex. 

It drips down along her spine like honey on a vine. His mouth getting closer and closer placing open-mouthed kisses against her inner thigh then right against her the trail of hair she’s so glad she thought to clean up just in case. His nose nuzzles against the bare skin above the small strip as he pushes her thighs wider. The stretch burns just a little, a good burn but a burn all the same and he’s groaning at the sight of her. 

In her head she stumbles and trips over endless possibilities as to what he might be thinking. She feels puffy and swollen in the way she often does after managing to orgasm but Ben is staring at her as though she’s the most incredible thing he’s ever laid eyes on. His mouth moves without a sound, his eyes impossibly dark as he just sits there and stares. There’s a slightest of movements and the bed shifts just a little. It’s confusing at first but then Rey realizes Ben’s shifting against the mattress. He groans again, eyes closed, lip pinned between his teeth for just a breath before he gains composure, his focus honed and hot. 

At first, she thought he might take his time, lick slow and broad and tease her just a little but his mouth descends on her with the desperation of a man on a mission. His tongue is broad as he laves between arousal slick folds. The sudden warmth makes her back arch or maybe it’s the way he rubs against her clit. It’s borderline too much, edging on over stimulating until he slows down and it’s just his tongue in smooth slow motions. He laps dutifully, sweetly even before pushing his tongue deep and wriggling it just so. She gasps at the feel, half-embarrassed by the way his face is now, without a doubt coated in her fluids but wrapped up in the warm sensation that builds along her spine. He’s good at this she decides, though really had he given her any reason to doubt it? 

Her body twitches involuntarily immediately held in place by his broad palm against her belly. A growl at his throat vibrates against her as his other hand disappears for just a moment. She can hear the sound of slapping skin, his shoulder moving just so as he mutters, “Fucking can’t wait to be inside you,” against her labia. 

“Do it.” Rey gasps, her voice high and pleading, hips grinding down against his face as he shakes his head just a little. The movement moves his tongue within her, his tongue that is soon joined by not one but two fingers. Two because he’s already stretched her a little. He pushes hard, making her whimper and throw an arm across her face, his name a soft sound against her lips.

“Not yet…” she wants to cry and pull his hair, she wants to make him do it. His fingers move at an easy rhythm, his thumb pressing against her clit as he goes. It’s steady and good, so good. The kind of thing that builds momentum fast. His tongue and his thumb move in tandem before he’s sucking her clit between his lips and fuck, it’s there, right there. That coiling heat, that built-up pressure that burns brighter and brighter still. 

“Ben, Ben, Ben,” Rey all but cries, “I’m— I’m gonna— You’re gonna make me—“ 

Without warning, she’s empty her cunt pulsing and angry and fuck she wants to cry. Where did he go? What is he doing?

When he slides in it’s quick, and it’s hard and fuck it’s amazing. Bigger than his two fingers by far. The stretch is unreal, forcing her back to arch for the sheer pleasure of it. A cry of shock and joy bursting forth from her lungs. It shouldn’t be enough but it is, the pressure and the heat pushing her over the edge until she’s sobbing beneath him, working her hips as she rides out her orgasm. He stays like that for a minute, his pelvis planted firmly against her as she fucks herself slowly. Inside she can feel the way she pulses around, squeezing hard against cock with just barely contained desire, “Fu—uuuuck.” Ben cries out, back curved and awkward as his toes slide against the floor, “Need you to scoot Darlin.” He tells her after a beat, lifting her hips so he can help her slide up along the bed. It feels strange to move with his cock buried within her but she feels so full and perfect it’s hard to focus on anything but that. 

“Ben,” his name flutters passed her lips, her legs raising to wrap around his hips, heels digging into his ass, “Ben, please.” 

He’s holding himself up on one forearm as he hovers over her peering down at the space between their bodies. Her cunt still flutters around him, the purr of electric shocks tingling along her limbs as he starts to move. It’s slow and shallow, barely pulling out before he’s pushing back in like he’s savouring the feel of her. 

“You feel—“ he grits out hard and strained, “So fucking good.” Drawing out all the way he dips his hips, the tip just barely breaching her the tight ring of muscles. In and out, in and out like a pen in an ink well. Like he’s testing the stretch before he slams back in with a groan, “So fucking good,” he repeats, pushing into her so his thighs hold her legs wide, pushing her along the bed as he goes. Her back slides along the soft duvet cover, hands reaching out, groping for him, anything she can get her hands on. A shoulder, a bicep, his neck. She needs to touch him, needs to feel more.

The warm press of his skin against hers is delicious. His belly pressed firmly against her own as he dips in for a kiss. His lips are unpracticed and sloppy, his movements jarring in this attempt at affection. It’s a confusing motion, the force of his trusts mismatched with the delicate way his lips seek out hers. His tongue rolling across her bottom lip before drawing her pout between his teeth to give the softest of tugs. 

Rey hears herself gasping and moaning like something out of one of Poe’s pornos. Some helpless girl being taken advantage of by this big strong farmhand. Only she’s not helpless at all. She’s completely in control and that thought alone is intoxicating. She pushes her hips trying to meet his motion. The sensation is thick and heady. Her body is getting use to the stretch of him, wetter then she can ever remember being during sex. It drips down between her legs making her ass wet and likely leaving a mark on the sheets. 

Not that she is in any headspace to care, not when he rucks her knees over his forearms and picks up his pace to something akin to punishing. The ‘fuck, fuck, fuck,’s that fall from her lips drive him on, the ‘Ben’s and the ‘right there’s barely recognizable as her own voice. Has she always been this high pitched? This needy and vocal? 

The change in angle knocks her back, Ben’s strokes short and almost violent as he pushes into her now. Skin cracking, balls slapping against her as his grunts and the wet sound of their fucking fill the room. Then he hits it, that spot. The one she knows she has but still hasn't been able to find well on her own. Once, maybe twice but Ben seems to do so with ease. He redoubles his efforts when her moans change in pitch. Like he’s letting himself fall against her pushing and pushing until there’s little space left between them and he’s grinding against her. Her hands clutch and pull, her nails clawing at the flesh of his back. He hisses and groans, throwing his head back as he hits that spot again. 

“There!” she cries out, “That, do that,” comes out as a laugh, breathy and half gone. His brow lined in sweat as he smiles like a wolf and does it again. It’s like magic. Like his hips do this thing when he pushes against her only it’s just him and his thighs and his cock and and… and his mouth is on her throat, teeth dragging across her neck before he bites at her shoulder. It’s soft, not enough to leave a mark but enough to make his point. Mine. It says, his tongue wriggling against her skin as he kisses and sucks. Softly once and then a little harder. 

His mouth moves with stuttered purpose until he’s biting the swell of her breast and sucking a small bruise against her flesh. He’s marking her and she likes it. The heat of the blood pooling at the surface different than the warmth of his mouth.

Ben rolls his hips again and he’s edging her close to something brilliant and bright. It has her gasping, nearly sobbing as she pulls him down against her. “Ben,” she whines, a warning, a promise, “So— Oh my— Ben, Ben, Ben” 

“Gonna come for me Darlin?” his voice is strained with the effort of his thrusts. Like a man lost to himself, he drops her legs leaving her open and vulnerable. The stretch to her groin is barely a whisper compared to the way his cock makes space deep inside her, “Give me one more,” a command, a pause and then a soft, “please?” She would give him anything if he only just asked it, an orgasm seems such a trivial price for the beautiful things he’s doing to her now. One hand makes its way between them, his thumb stumbling over her clit. Somehow he manages to miss it each time, rubbing all around the hood as he moves. 

She soon realizes he’s doing it on purpose, like pulling at the loose thread of a sweater until the garment slowly starts to come undone. It seems impossible, the idea of coming a second time, like a flame slowly dying as it flickers there beneath the surface of her skin. His mouth, his hands, everything just feels so good, the kind of feeling that should be preserved and remembered for all time.

This, this is sex and it’s so much more than a penis in a vagina. It’s the way two bodies come together. It’s the feel of a cord wound through them pulling and pushing as each one moves. It’s knowing that when she digs her nails in and pulls Ben’s breathing gets ragged, that his mouth falls open when her hands slide down over the round globes of his ass. It’s knowing he likes his hair tugged, pulled even but in large clumps of hair not tiny strands. Its things that she’s learning and wants to continue to learn because no one has ever taught her before.

The mechanics of it sure, hips move, hands touch but it’s the way he changes the angle just so and suddenly she’s lit up like a Christmas tree. Like he’s managed to find that spot and he’s hitting it like a child playing ding-dong-ditch. It’s the way he says, “That’s it, sweetheart,” and gasps when she snaps. When her back arches and she’s screaming, low and easy before it erupts into a chorus of pleasure. His mouth at her breast as he draws her nipple between his lips and tugs and tugs as her legs quiver and fall. Her feet twitch and slide across his duvet and still her body trembles. It goes on for what feels like a lifetime, waves of pleasure that crash and pull and swallow her whole. 

She’s still twitching as he moves her, barely aware of the way he’s pulling her legs or how he’s wrapping his arms around them. She’s listless and sleepy now, plaint beneath his touch as he holds her legs upright and squeezes them together. It doesn’t matter he can do as he wants, her eyes heavy, a smile on her lip as he fucks into her steadily. 

The slap of their hips, the way it jostles her slightly makes her giggle drunkenly as Ben presses kisses against her ankle and then the muscle of her calf. “Can I— can I come in you?” She barely registers the question but she’s nodding all the same. Her thighs pressed together tightly as he pushes and pushes sharp and short and hard.

It only lasts another moment, no more than a few breathes before he’s dropping her legs and pinning her down. His body feels like a weighted blanket as he sinks into her deep and full. He pushes and pumps, his hips moving as he groans in her neck his cock twitching inside her. Everything is warm and good and glowing like the sunrise. Nuzzling her cheek against his head Rey pets at his back and calls softly for him to come, “Give it all to me Ben,” she hears herself say, like a maiden in a glen she beckons him sweetly, “fuck, you feel so good, so fucking good inside me. Fuck me, fuck me hard, fuck me until you come” and he does. 

It comes in gushes, pulsing and warm as he fucks her thought it. Each in stroke seems to push more of it out as wet drips down her thighs and onto the bed. The noises it makes is obscene but the soft squelching is drowned out by the deep grumble of Ben’s voice as he sobs out his release. When his hips finally still she feels him twitch above her, holding himself up just a little as to not crush her with his weight. He’s not a small man this Ben Solo with his filthy mouth who fucks like a draft horse. The thought makes Rey giggle, burying her nose in his shoulder as he presses kisses against her cheek, her neck, her collarbone, mumbling against her skin as he goes. 

“What was that?”

“Sorry,” he slurs and it seems a silly thing but maybe she missed something she’s not entirely sure. The world around her is a glimmering sex hazed dream at this point.

“For what?” Pushing his hair back off his face Rey smiles and kisses him sweetly, pushing their noses together for a moment. The tip of hers is rounded while his is more broad and obvious, this too makes her laugh. Is it possible to get high off of mind-blowing sex? 

“Did I hurt you?” 

Rey’s guffaw is a full-bodied creature, pressing her into his chest as she laughs, “Quite the opposite,” she snickers, “I mean… I’m going to be sore I’m sure. I might need to start doing yoga more regularly if we’re going to make this a thing.”

“Are we?”

“What?”

Ben noses her cheek, soft and smooth, back and forth before kissing it, “Going to make this a thing?” he sounds almost hesitant, fearful in a way that cracks something in Rey’s chest that she wasn’t quite prepared for. 

“I mean… I want to… do you?” 

Rey has seen Ben Solo smile, she’s seen him smirk, she’s seen him smoulder in a way that men should not be capable of doing but the look on his face at this very moment is like nothing she’s seen gracing his features before. It’s a mix of childlike awe and sheer elation. Like she’s just promised him a pony for Christmas or maybe a chicken, or at the very least a sheep. Ben seems to like his barnyard animals, “You have no idea,” he allows himself to say against her neck peppering it with kisses. 

“I mean, since I’m going to be staying for a while and all, I figure…” she shrieks as he hitches his knees beneath her thighs and pulls her forward. His cock, soft now falls from his place snuggled deep within her warmth and with it a telltale gush of fluid that Ben seems to… he’s honest to go scooping it up and pushing it back inside. 

“Sorry,” he mutters again making to wipe his hand against the duvet, clearly embarrassed as though he was caught doing something naughty. Rey, can’t help but blush grabbing his wrist to pull his fingers to her lips. She pops them into her mouth catching his eyes as she does so. His pupils have started to recede leaving the warm caramel and honey tone of his eyes more visible now. They’re wide and curious as she sucks off the mixed taste of their release. It’s a strange blend of salty and musky and something she can’t help but love moaning softly as she releases his thick fingers. 

“S’ok” she offers softly, kissing his fingertips than his palm, then his wrist with care, “So you’re a dominant with a breeding kink.” she teases, watching as Ben turns pink all the way up to the tips of his ears. She loves this tell more than any other now, revelling in the way she can make such a large man blush. 

“I— I—“ he stammers and she giggles. 

“It’s ok Ben, I’m only teasing.” 

He nods softly and goes back to his kissing. His large body keeping her warm in the cooling air, “Just so you know.” His lips on her clavicle dance across to her sternum and stop, “As soon as I’m able, we’re doing that again,” a pause, more blush and Ben’s nose nudges her jaw, “If you want to that is.”

And oh how she does. 

They lay a mess of limbs, sated and warm for how long, Rey couldn’t say but she’s happy. Happier than she’s been in a long, long time. True to his word they have sex again, and again and again. He has her on their sides, her leg up over his hip as he thrusts into her slowly. Through the gentle rocking, he tells her how beautiful she is, how perfect and sweet. He has her later on her hands and knees, fast and hard and loud. Loud enough that a chorus of voices from outside holler, “Get a room,” and start giggling when they fall quiet. She comes hard with his hand over her mouth, a high pitched moan high in her throat. 

Her favourite though is when she rides him. She can feel him deep like this, the rise and fall of his hips pushing her, on and on. She rocks and bucks and bounces and he lets her do whatever she wants. His hand on her hips helping her along. She feels powerful like this, sitting astride his massive body. They come together, Ben sitting up to wrap her in his arms and rock into her as they come down from their post-coital high. Afterwards, he skips off to the kitchen to find them something to snack on coming back to report that the fire has been put out and someone has cleaned up. 

They fall asleep after having their fill of leftover spinach dip and french loaf. Ben lays on his side while Rey lies back staring at his ceiling. His fingers tracing the shallow contours of her body. It’s peaceful in a way that Rey finds herself desperate for. Her mind alight with curious thoughts. Hopes and dreams leftover from childhood. A place to belong, people to belong to. Poe and Finn and Rose sure but not like this. Never like this. Feeling safe and warm and cherished. 

Ben kisses her shoulder, and nuzzles her neck with his nose. He’s so tactile it makes her skin crawl with want. Four times is enough though, maybe in the morning they can pick up where they left off but for now, sleep begs for her attention. Together they find their peace with it all. She’ll stay, they’ll explore whatever this is. Something beyond sex and orgasms and fun. Something important, something real. 

When she wakes, Ben nearly on top of her. One thick leg thrown over her thighs, an arm draped across her chest. He’s managed to pull blankets over them at least, cocooning them in the scant warmth provided by the morning sun. She wonders to herself what time he needs to get up. What time chores start and when the animals need to be tended to. No rest for the wicked as they say. 

She lays there for some time, marvelling at the heat rolling off of his big naked body. He looks youthful and sweet like this even with the facial hair, or maybe due to the facial hair. The kind that doesn’t quite connect as it grows around his mouth. His chest bare but for a few hairs around his nipples and right in the centre of his chest. She likes him like that but then again she’d probably like him just as well covered in hair like a beast. It wouldn't change the heart of the man after all. 

When he shifts again his hand resting on her belly now her bladder squawks in protest. Their clothing, left in the bathroom leaves her with no other options but to dig through his drawers to find herself something to wear or scamper down the hall naked in hopes no one is up to see. She opts for the latter, peeking out the doorway before bolting for the open door she’s pretty sure holds the toilet. 

The floor is a mess of clothes, his and hers alike. Hers are at least folded while his have been toed into a pile. After alleviating her bladder she cleans herself up and inspects her face and neck in the mirror. Her skin is still softly tanned though there are dark circles under her eyes. No huge shock she hadn’t exactly gotten much sleep. Idly she wonders what the likelihood of falling back into bed drifting off again might be. Then she looks down at her neck and her chest. He’d been careful at first, little marks, red and purple marring her skin start from her ear and run down along her breasts. Rey can’t help but smile at the sight. A grown man child with a need to make known what he thinks is his property. 

Splashing water on her face Rey makes the quick decision to gather up their clothes pulling on Ben’s flannel and buttoning it up for the trip back down the hallway. It’s large on her and smells of woodsmoke and Ben. Two of her favourite scents she has quickly come to learn. 

Depositing their clothes in a heap at the end of the bed Rey snuggles back in next to Ben who grumbles and asks where she’s been. The answer doesn’t seem important because before long he’s out again snoring softly in her ear. Together they lay, Rey the little spoon to Ben’s big, warm and safe and oh so right. 

She doesn’t wake up again for hours to come, jostled into consciousness by the buzzing of her phone and the grumble of a big man irritated by the fact that someone (Rey) didn’t bother to turn her ringer off. 

“Don’t.” Ben gruffs, pulling Rey back against him as she goes to get up out of bed to retrieve her phone. 

“I—“

“No.” the petulant child has her wrapped up so tight she almost wonders if whoever is texting her is worth leaving Ben’s delightfully warm bed. 

“Might be important.” She tries.

“They’d call.” 

He has a point and she’s almost willing to concede when her phone chimes again and again and again, “I’ll be quick… promise.” Ben’s hold loosens minimally before he finally lets go and honestly the loss of his arms around her is enough to make her regret this decision but she’s committed now. Her feet are on the floor. Sometime through the morning, she must have been hot because the flannel is missing and she’s bare to the world. Ben seems to approve, wetting his lips as he lounges in bed, head propped up on one hand. 

Knowing he’s watching Rey bends at the waist instead of bending in a squat, an action which earns a deep growl from Ben, “Get back here now,” he demands making her giggle as she gropes for her phone in one of her pants pockets. It’s Poe, of course, it’s Poe only… shit. 

“Uhhh Ben.” Her flirtatious tone gone, brows drawn in concentration, “I think there might be a problem.” 

Ben groans and flops back against the bed, “Is someone dead?”

“No.”

“Then it can wait.”

“I really don’t think it can Ben,” She tries turning her phone towards the irritated farmer who is very clearly shirking his chores at this point. 

When Ben looks up he squints, allowing his eyes a moment to focus, “Is that?”

“Yep.”

“Not one of—“

“Where else could it have come from?”

“Fuuuuuck” Ben gripes throwing the sheets back in an exaggerated huff, “No morning sex I guess.” 

Rey giggles, “Maybe afternoon sex? In the field perhaps?”

Ben grins for a second and then busies himself with his socks, underwear and pants, “Depends on how many there are. You help me and it’ll get done faster.”

“Maybe we should wake Hux…”

“We should definitely wake Hux.” 

They share a knowing look before pulling on the rest of their clothing before banging on the redhead’s bedroom door.

He opens it in a huff, his hair a mess, his skinny legs barely covered by a pair of blue and white paisley print boxer shorts. “Get up,” Ben says quickly, adjusting his belt. 

“What the fuck?”

“Cows are out, all hands on deck for this one.” 

“How the fuck did the cows get out and how do you know they’re out and why do I have to help?”

Rey reaches out and pinches Hux’s nipple hard, “Come on Hugs, you heard the man, all hands on deck!”

“I already know I liked you two better when you were pining for each other. This united front bullshit is going to kill me,” Rey reaches out again, “Ok, Ok, Jesus I’m coming.”


End file.
